


Sense Memories

by TheShorty



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Chakotay x Tea, Grief, Janeway x Coffee, Suggested (not explicit) smut, There are lots of ways to imagine the character not dying, but I figured better safe than sorry, there ended up being a second chapter, who knew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-18 10:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14851154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShorty/pseuds/TheShorty
Summary: "He never loved coffee until he loved her."Prompt from Tumblr: “I never cared for the taste of coffee until it was paired with the sweetness of your lips. Now I’m addicted, too.”-----A tea drinker’s change of heart // Grazia Curcuru





	1. Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [devovere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/devovere/gifts).



> Moved from tumblr by request, with only slight modifications (because editing never stops).

The vice around his heart tightened every time he smelled it— Kathryn’s favorite beverage, which would be at least 25% of her blood by volume if she had anything to do with it.

Sense memory, they called it.

~~

He tried to enjoy coffee during the Academy; everyone swore by it and said it would grow on him. But he never developed a taste for it—the uneasy clench of his jaw as the liquid hit his tongue, the dryly crisp aftertaste, the acid settling on his stomach. No, coffee was too harsh for him.

Until he tasted it on her lips.

~~

She came to him. He wasn’t sure she would, but he gave her the space she seemed to want. He thought he pushed too hard, too fast with his ridiculous angry warrior “legend”. He didn’t regret it, though; his silence hurt more than her fear.

She tried to fake nonchalance by leaning against the door, but she couldn’t stop fiddling with her hands.

He held his breath and waited, quiet.

When she finally met his gaze, his lungs collapsed as he plunged head first into the oceans of her eyes.

It almost killed him but he waited, still.

She bit her lip and looked away; he bit his cheek to suppress his smile as she steeled her nerves. After what felt like an eternity, but before he could say a word, her lips were against his. She swallowed his gasp as the sweet bitterness on her lips branded his soul.

He never loved coffee until he loved her.

~~

After that, the aroma was intoxicating. The bitter smell filled his soul with sweetness—her sweet touch when he hurt, his sweet ache as he studied her across their dinner table, her salty sweetness on his tongue.

Bitter sweet, every one of them.

There was nothing sweet about the bitterness on her lips as she lay dying in his arms, the storm raging around them until it took his soul with it.

He never loved coffee, until he loved her.

He never hated it, either, until he lost her.


	2. Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She finally found strength in tea when she drank it from his lips."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where there's tea, there's hope. - Arthur Wing Pinero

She stood against cold steel, her mission complete. Scents—lemon and honey, cinnamon and cloves, ginger-laced Darjeeling, and coffee—swirled around her, engulfing her, and she slumped under their weight.

Sense memory. Or, maybe...in this case... the scent of hope.

~~

She’d always believed tea was the weak man’s coffee. The doctor at Starfleet Medical suggested tea, instead of coffee, might help her insomnia. She tried, but never found one strong enough. Tea didn’t wake her senses with one deep inhale, didn’t leave its bitter comfort on her tongue long after it was gone. No, tea was too weak for her.

Until she drank it from his lips.

~~

A year and a day.

Chakotay waited a year and a day after Seven died to spill his soul, standing forlorn and alone in the middle of her quarters. How he felt betrayed by her, how he betrayed her. How he mourned her, mourned what they could have been, if only they’d been honest. She didn’t know if he was talking about her or Seven.

Kathryn who hid herself from him all those years ago, and he’d let her, fearing she’d pull away forever if he pushed. Kathryn, whom he never stopped loving.

Seven, who treated him like a filled checkbox on her humanity to-do list once the honeymoon phase wore off. He’d let her too, fearing the far-reaching consequences of a divorce on their floating home. Seven, whom he never truly loved.

 

He released the anguish haunting his soul—there, in the middle of her living room—for a woman he’d never get back, a woman he’d never know. For the Kathryn she would have been had she not born her burdens alone all these years.

She ached too, for their would-have-beens and never-will-bes. For how everything, and nothing, was the same.

He kissed her, tasting like cloves and ginger and Darjeeling.

She finally found strength in tea when she drank it from his lips.

~~

She’d learned him again, by the taste of his lips. Lemon and honey, if he was ill or worried. Ginger-laced Darjeeling, in times of peace and calm. Clove and cinnamon, when he needed strength.

He died, and her strength died with him.

She started drinking tea.

Clove and cinnamon.

~~

The scent of hope engulfed her, and she buckled under its weight, feeling stronger than she had in years.

 

They were home.

 

Everything and nothing would be the same anymore.


End file.
